‘He survived. Just.’

‘Dad said he’s going to make bacon sandwiches. And then we might go to the park. Just him and me and Nicky. Linzie’s taking Suze to ballet. She has ballet lessons twice a week.’

‘That sounds great,’ Jess said. She wondered whether being able to sound cheerful about things that made her want to kick something was her superpower.

‘I’ll be back some time after three,’ she said to Marty, when he came back on the phone. ‘Please make sure Tanzie wears her coat.’

‘Jess,’ he said, as she was about to ring off.

‘What?’

‘They’re great. The pair of them. I just –’

Jess swallowed. ‘After three. I’ll ring if I’m going to be any later.’

She walked the dog, left him stretched out in the front room, and when she returned Ed was up and breakfasted. They drove the hour to his parents’ house in silence. He had shaved, and changed his T-shirt twice, even though they were both exactly the same. She sat beside him and said nothing, and felt, with the morning and the miles, the intimacy of the previous evening slowly seep away. Several times she opened her mouth to speak and then found she didn’t know what to say. She felt as if someone had peeled a layer of skin off her, leaving all her nerve endings exposed. Her laugh was too loud, her movements unnatural and self-conscious. She felt as if she had been asleep for a million years and someone had just blasted her awake.

What she really wanted to do was touch him, to wind her hand into his, to rest a hand on his thigh and yet she wasn’t sure whether, now they were out of the bedroom and in the unforgiving light of day, that was appropriate any more.

She wasn’t sure what he thought had just happened. And she was afraid to ask.

Jess lifted her bruised foot and placed the bag of frozen peas back onto it. Taking it off and putting it back on again.

‘You okay?’

‘Fine.’ She had mostly done it for something to do. She smiled fleetingly at him and he smiled back.

She thought about leaning across and kissing him. She thought about running her finger lightly along the back of his neck so that he would look over at her like he had the previous night, about undoing her seatbelt and edging across the front seat and forcing him to pull over, just so she could take his mind off things for another twenty minutes. And then she remembered Nathalie, who, three years previously, in an effort to be impulsive, had given Dean a surprise blow-job while he was driving the truck. He had yelled, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ and ploughed straight into the back of a Mini Metro, and before he’d had a chance to do himself up, Nathalie’s aunt Doreen had come running out of the supermarket to see what had happened. She had never looked at Nathalie in quite the same way again.

So maybe not. As they drove she kept stealing looks at him. She found she couldn’t see his hands without picturing them on her skin, that soft mop of hair travelling slowly down her bare stomach. She thought about the smell of him, the tough muscle and the smooth skin of him. Oh, God. She crossed her legs and stared out of the window.

But Ed’s mind was elsewhere. He had grown quieter, the muscle in his jaw tightening, his hands a fraction too fixed on the wheel.

She turned to the front, adjusted the frozen peas, and thought about trains. And lampposts. And Maths Olympiads.

I am the woman who doesn’t need a relationship, she told herself. I have simply confused myself by stirring up hormones, like a sort of needy soup.

I am the woman who does not get involved. And, frankly, there’s enough that’s complicated around here right now without this adding to it. It’s just a few days out of my life. Jess gazed out of the window and repeated the words silently until they ceased to have any meaning.

Ed’s parents lived in a grey stone Victorian house at the end of a terrace, the kind of street where neighbours try to outdo each other with the neatness of their window boxes, and the recycling bins are hidden when not in use. Ed pulled up, let the engine tick down, and gazed out of the window at his childhood home, the freshly painted gate, and the lawn that looked as if somebody had been over it with nail scissors. He didn’t move.

Almost without thinking, she reached out and touched his hand and he turned to her as if he’d forgotten she was there. ‘You sure you don’t mind coming in with me?’

‘Of course not,’ she stuttered.

‘I’m really grateful. I know you wanted to get the kids.’

She rested her hand on his briefly. ‘It’s fine. Let’s get it over with.’

They walked up the path, and Ed paused, as if checking what he was wearing, then knocked sharply on the front door. They glanced at each other, smiled awkwardly, and waited. And waited some more.

After about thirty seconds, he knocked again, louder this time. And then he crouched to peer through the letterbox.

He straightened up and reached for his phone. ‘Odd. I’m sure Gem said the lunch was today. Let me check.’ He flicked through some messages, nodded, confirming it, then knocked again.

‘I’m pretty sure if anyone was there they would have heard,’ Jess said. The thought occurred, in passing, that it would be quite nice just for once to walk up to a house and have a clue what was happening on the other side of the door.

They started at the stuttering sound of a sash window being raised above their heads. Ed took a step back and peered up at next door.

‘Is that you, Ed?’

‘Hi, Mrs Harris. I’m after my parents. Any idea where they are?’

The woman grimaced. ‘Oh, Ed dear, they’ve gone to the hospital. I’m afraid your father took ill again early this morning.’

Ed put his hand up to his eyes. ‘Which hospital?’

She hesitated, as if she couldn’t believe he didn’t know.

‘The Royal, dear. It’s about four miles away if you head for the dual carriageway. You want to go left at the end of the road …’

He was already stepping away. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Harris. I know where it is. Thank you.’

‘Give him our best,’ she called, and Jess heard the window being pulled down. Ed was already opening the car door.

They reached the hospital in a matter of minutes. Jess didn’t speak. She had no idea what to say. At one point she ventured, ‘Well, at least they’ll be glad to see you,’ but it was a stupid thing to say and he was so deep in thought that he didn’t seem to hear. He gave his father’s name at the information desk and they traced him to Victoria Ward. ‘You know where Oncology is, yes?’ the receptionist added helpfully, looking up from her screen. Ed flinched visibly at the word.

They entered a steel lift and travelled up two floors. The doors opened, and the sign for the ward was in front of them. Ed gave his name on the intercom, cleaned his hands with the antibacterial lotion by the door and, when the doors finally clicked open, she followed him through.

A woman walked down the hospital corridor towards them. She was wearing a felt skirt and coloured tights. Her hair was cut in the short feathery style that women use when they insist they’re too busy to worry about their hair.

‘Hey, Gem,’ he said, slowing as she drew near.

She looked at him, disbelieving. Her jaw dropped and for a moment Jess thought she was going to say something.

‘It’s good to s–’ he began. From nowhere, the woman’s hand shot out and she smacked him hard. The sound actually echoed down the corridor.

Ed staggered backwards, clutching his cheek. ‘What the –’

‘You f**king wanker,’ she said. ‘You f**king, f**king wanker.’

The two of them stared at each other, Ed lowering his hand as if to check for blood. Her jaw was clenched, as if she were waiting for him to say something, do something, but he did nothing.

She shook her hand then, staring at it as if she had surprised herself, and then after a moment, she held it gingerly towards Jess. ‘Hello, I’m Gemma,’ she said.

Jess hesitated, then shook it carefully. ‘Um … Jess.’

She frowned. ‘The one with a child in need of urgent help.’

When Jess nodded, she looked her up and down slowly. Her smile was weary, rather than unfriendly. ‘Yes, I rather thought you might be. Right. Mum’s down the end, Ed. You’d better come and say hello.’

‘Is he here? Is it Ed?’ The woman’s hair was gunmetal grey, pinned up in a neat twist. ‘Oh, Ed! It is you. Oh, darling. How lovely. But what have you done to yourself?’

He hugged her, then pulled back, ducking his face when she tried to touch his nose, and giving Jess the swiftest sideways look. ‘I … I walked into a door.’

She pulled him close again, patting his back. ‘Oh, it is so good to see you.’

He let her hold him for a few minutes, then gently disentangled himself. ‘Mum, this is Jess.’

‘I’m … Ed’s friend.’

‘Well, how lovely to meet you. I’m Anne.’ Her gaze travelled briefly over Jess’s face, taking in her bruised nose, the faint swelling on her lip. She hesitated just a moment, then perhaps decided not to ask. ‘I’m afraid I can’t say Ed’s told me an awful lot about you but he never does tell me an awful lot about anything, so I’m very much looking forward to hearing it from you.’ She put her hand on Ed’s arm and her smile wavered a little. ‘We did have a rather nice lunch planned but …’

Gemma took a step closer to her mother and began rummaging around in her handbag. ‘But Dad was taken ill again.’

‘He was so looking forward to this lunch. We had to put Simon and Deirdre off. They were just setting out from the Peak District.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Jess said.

‘Yes. Well. Nothing to be done.’ She seemed to pull herself together. ‘You know, it really is the most revolting disease. I have to work quite hard not to take it all personally.’ She leant into Jess with a rueful smile. ‘Sometimes I go into our bedroom and I call it the most dreadful names. Bob would be horrified.’

Jess smiled at her. ‘I’ll give it a few from me, if you like.’

‘Oh, please do! That would be wonderful. The filthier the better. And loud. It has to be loud.’

‘Jess can do loud,’ Ed said, dabbing at his lip.

There was a short silence.

‘I bought a whole salmon,’ Anne said, to nobody in particular.

Jess could feel Gemma studying her. Unconsciously she pulled at her T-shirt, not wanting her tattoo to show above her jeans. The very words ‘social worker’ always made her feel scrutinized, as if the woman had already worked out where Jess came from and was assessing her.

And then Anne had moved past and was holding out her arms. The hungry way she pulled Ed to her again made Jess wince a little. ‘Oh, darling. Darling boy. I know I’m being a terrible clingy mum but do indulge me. It really is so lovely to see you.’ He hugged her back, his eyes raising to Jess’s briefly, guiltily.

‘My mother last hugged me in 1997,’ murmured Gemma. Jess wasn’t sure she was aware that she had said it out loud.

‘I’m not sure mine ever did,’ Jess said.

Gemma looked at her as if she’d forgotten she was there. ‘Um … about the whole whacking-my-brother thing. He’s probably told you what I do for a living. I just feel obliged to stress that I don’t usually hit people.’

‘I don’t think brothers count.’

There was a sudden flicker of warmth behind Gemma’s eyes. ‘That’s a very sensible rule.’

‘No problem,’ Jess said. ‘Anyway, I’ve wanted to do it quite often myself over the past few days.’

Bob Nicholls lay in a hospital bed, a blanket up to his chin and his hands resting gently on its surface. It was clear from the pallor of his skin and the way the bones of his skull were almost visible that he was not a well man. His breathing was laboured and his head swivelled slowly towards the door as they entered. An oxygen mask sat on a bedside table, and two faint indents on his cheek told of its recent use. He was painful to look at.